


Two Roads

by sariloire



Series: Ashae Lavellan [26]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Trespasser, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariloire/pseuds/sariloire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas can't find Ashae in the Fade, and seeks to find answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Roads

 

The scratch of his quill on paper was a constant, steady sound to Varric. Almost as comforting as the chatter drifting across the room from the drunk patrons of The Hanged Man. He stopped and looked down at the letter he was writing and sighed, crumpling up the marred sheet.

Writing to Leliana wasn’t a difficult task, per se, but he had to be careful what he put in words. And stealth was more her thing, even with the duty of being the Divine, than it was his own.

Hawke’s voice caught his ear and he smiled, pulling over a fresh sheet of paper. She was upstairs, talking with a guest, while he was trying to finish the letter he had already put off too long. Put it off any longer and Diving Victoria would call for an Exalted March just to get a response from him.

Putting his quill to paper again, Varric had just started writing a greeting when the door to the bar swung open, and a cloaked figure stepped through it. Strangers of all form, including glowing elves, were normal for The Hanged Man, so his attention went back to his letter until a shadow cast over his table caused him to look up again.

When his eyes scanned over the hooded face, a disbelieving noise escaped his mouth.

“Chuckles?”

“Is she dead, Varric?”

No hello, no greeting of any kind. Just a terse sentence, from a voice rough and scratchy, one that sounded as if it had lost everything. Varric pushed his chair back slightly, looking up at Solas’ face in concern. Solas pushed his hood back slightly, but kept it on enough to hide his face from the rest of the crowd in the bar.

“Wait, who are you talking about?”

“Ashae. I can’t find her in the Fade.” His eyes were lined, his skin looked pale and grey. Varric thought he looked ill. “It’s been weeks, I can’t find her. She’s not there. I saw her every night for months, and suddenly she was gone.” Solas clutched the table, steadying himself as he took a breath. “Please, Varric, tell me what happened.”

Hawke’s voice from upstairs had gone quiet from the moment Solas first spoke, Varric didn’t have to look behind him to know she was watching from somewhere on the floor above. “Sit down, Solas, do you want a drink?” Solas shook his head in refusal, but sat at the table, burying his face in his hands.

“How did it happen? How did I not know?” His voice was quieter, broken. Certain he had just received the confirmation he had come to Kirkwall for.

“She’s not dead, Chuckles.” His head snapped up at Varric’s words. Varric shrugged, taking a long drink from his mug. “I know that for a fact. Actually, I’m in the middle of writing to Divine Victoria about her.”

Solas’ face flooded with relief, he sank back in his chair slightly before catching the end of Varric’s words and sitting up, once again looking concerned. “Writing about her? Is there something wrong?”

“Besides her having half an arm cut off a few months ago?” Solas visibly flinched when Varric said the words he knew it would be unkind to say, but ones he wanted to get out. The elf looked down, folding his hands on the table. Varric gave him a moment before continuing. “She’s doing fine, although she has become dependent on the local alchemist here in Kirkwall.”

Solas looked up at those words, his brow furrowed in confusion. Varric cut him off before he could get a question out.

“Ashae decided, oh I believe it was around three or four weeks ago, that she didn’t want to dream anymore. Said it hurt too much to see you there, skulking around every night, leaving when she tried to approach you. She’s taking a potion every night to stop her from dreaming”

The despair on Solas’ face was enough to soften the bite that had crept into Varric’s last sentence. He had seen Solas and Ashae together for months and months. In his own limited opinion, from the careful watching he had done of the two interacting when they were out on missions, the older mage had honestly cared for Lavellan. Whatever had happened between them hadn’t seemed to change his feelings, judging by the expressions Solas had shown since he had walked into the bar.

“She said that until she finds a way to stop you, to save both you and the world, that she’s going to stay out of the Fade.” Varric took another drink. “I’m sorry, Chuckles. I’ll keep an eye on her as best I can.”

Solas gazed at Varric, his eyes staying on him for a few moments until they suddenly snapped to a spot above the dwarf’s head, at the top of the staircase leading to the hallway and Varric’s room. He pushed back from the table, turning to look at the door leading out into Lowtown.

“Master Tethras, would you give her a message from me?” His voice was stronger now. It didn’t overcome the din from the riotous crowd, but it was strong enough to carry up the stairs behind Varric. “Please tell her, that when the sun goes down I think of her. Please tell her, that I will never forget the sound of her voice calling my name.”

Solas turned and looked past Varric, to where a blonde head had moved out of sight just a moment before. “And please, let her know that she lives in my heart,” He took a step closer to the stairs, but stopped himself before walking up them. His voice dropped as he continued to gaze up the stairs, his eyes searching the empty hall. “and that everywhere I go, I always see her face.“

“I’ll do that, Chuckles.” At Varric’s nod, Solas left, the door closing behind him with a muffled sound.

Varric shook his head, pushing away from the table and gathering his things. He knew any hopes of finishing the letter tonight were shot. He made his way up the stairs to the hallway connected to his room, where two light-haired women were waiting.

Hawke was leaning against the wall, one hand on the shoulder of the smaller elf who was sitting on the floor, wiping at her face with the one hand she had left. Hawke grimaced at Varric, awkwardly patting Ashae’s shoulder with the helplessness Varric felt on the rare occasion the former Inquisitor gave in to her reeling emotions.

“I’m sorry.” Ashae found her voice after a moment, struggling to her feet. “I just… I’m sorry. Let’s get back to the plans, Hawke. About that friend of yours, Zevran-“

“Robin.” Varric broke off the hurried words “No one is asking you to pretend that nothing happened.” Ashae looked at the floor, rubbing the stump of her left arm with her hand. “He chose his path, and you chose yours.”

“And now we have to try to stop him before his path ends with all of us dead.” Hawke interjected, running a hand through her hair. “Another chance to save the world, Varric. We should start keeping a tally.”

Ashae managed a smile, and turned to walk back to the table where she and Hawke had been going over schematics of Skyhold.

_‘You have two roads to choose from, Chuckles.’_  Varric thought, as Hawke leaned on him as they followed Ashae.  _‘Don’t choose the wrong one.’_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Solas' last quote came from here (http://wnq-writers.com/post/128877807220/please-tell-her-that-when-the-sun-goes-down-i)


End file.
